


Preen Improper

by FishingforCrows



Series: Earthly Pleasures (NSFW) [4]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Coming Untouched, Grinding, M/M, Smut, Wing Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 19:37:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19837135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FishingforCrows/pseuds/FishingforCrows
Summary: Crowley cares immensely about his appearance, Aziraphale is slightly less fastidious with his grooming. When the demon sees the state of his love’s wings, he decides something has to be done.





	Preen Improper

To say Aziraphale didn’t care about his appearance would be false. He took care that his clothes fit him well and suited his style, he kept them looking tidy and in good condition, and he even regularly got his nails manicured. However, while he took good care of his looks, he wasn’t one to waste much active thought on them. He preferred having one well maintained outfit and wearing it for as many decades as he feasibly could until he became anachronistic enough to start drawing attention to himself. He was certainly glad the fashions of the 20 th and 21 st century so far had allowed him to wear the same suit for over a century. On top of that, he hadn’t really put much thought into how he styled his hair for the entirety of his tenure on Earth. 

Compared to Crowley’s grooming routine, Aziraphale was downright sloppy. But the amount of care the serpent put into his appearance could put even most humans to shame. His hair was always perfectly coiffed, and he wore it in a variety of lengths and styles that he changed frequently. His clothes were always sleek and up to date with modern fashion, though he liked to put his own unique twists on whatever the humans were wearing. Be it his trademark snakeskin accessories or his melding of masculine and feminine styles, he always made sure his own style shone through. He was even thoroughly skilled at applying makeup. Each and every outfit Crowley wore was styled with care. The one part of his looks he didn’t put much thought into was skincare because eternal life was the best blemish protection.

The serpent generally didn’t mind this discrepancy between his beloved angel’s appearance and his. He might throw out a stray jeer here and there, mocking the angel for being tacky or old fashioned, but deep down he found it charming. Without his signature, homey, comfortable look, well Aziraphale just wouldn’t be himself. So, Crowley left him alone about it. 

Most of the time. 

One of the best parts of being unemployed, in Crowley’s opinion, was no one could tell you, you had to go anywhere. No one forcing you out into the rain or the snow to go put black ice on to the roads or do some other evil deed when really the weather was calling for a day inside by the fire. No, on a day like today, where freezing rain that was just almost turning into slush and sleet was pouring from the sky, he could just stay home. 

Aziraphale had already been at Crowley’s house the previous evening, and when the sky opened up he decided it would be better not to go home. Fortunately, in Crowley’s point of view, it had poured all night and didn’t show any signs of letting up. The perfect excuse to spend the day curled up in bed next to his angel watching television. The angel didn’t care much for television, so he miraculously pulled a copy of  _The Left Hand of Darkness_ by Ursula K. Le Guin out of his coat to keep him busy. He read, book in his lap, one arm around Crowley as the demon leaned his head on his shoulder, watching the screen. 

Eventually Crowley untangled himself from his angel, going to the kitchen to fix them something to drink. Tea for himself, cocoa for Aziraphale, at his specific request. It took a bit longer than planned as he had turned on the kettle, only to remember Aziraphale preferred milk in his cocoa when it was already half done. So, he got out a pot to heat the milk separately. 

When he returned to the bedroom, he was taken a back to see a cocoon of white feathers on his bed where Aziraphale had been. A cocoon that appeared to be shedding quite a few feathers on to his nice satin sheets.

Crowley sputtered unintelligibly for a second. “Your wings!” He exclaimed after a bit.A tuft of white-blonde hair poked out from between the wings followed by the angel’s bespectacled face, looking curious. 

“Oh yes, I just got a bit cold when you left and they’re rather good insulation you know,” Aziraphale explained simply. 

“No, no they’re a mess!” Crowley said, with the tone of a parent opening the door to a child’s filthy bedroom. Aziraphale’s wings looked downright bedraggled, feathers ruffled going every which way, it mortified the demon. He understood that while living on earth, they rarely ever brought their wings into the physical plane, and therefore didn’t necessarily need to groom them every day, but the state of the angel’s wings was truly unacceptable in his opinion. Just like the rest of his clothes, Crowley kept his wings in impeccable, pristine condition so should he ever have the need to take them out, they looked just as sleek as the rest of him, shining and midnight black. 

“Don’t you ever preen?” He asked in disbelief, setting the drinks on the night stand and sitting down to get a closer look. 

Aziraphale looked embarrassed and guilty, the look one might get when being interrogated about flossing by a dentist except with redder cheeks. “Eh… well every once and a while when I remember but you know I rarely ever take the old things out so it often slips my mind,” He muttered self-consciously. 

Crowley tutted and shook his head disapprovingly in a way that almost gave him flashbacks to when he’d been a nanny. “No, Angel, this will not do,” He said resolutely. “I’m going to preen them right now,” He reached over to try and get the angel to shift forward but Aziraphale tried to catch his hands and hold them at bay. 

“No, no, it’s fine dear, I’ll just put them away,” He protested, the wings in question fluttering and shifting behind him, trying to escape the demon’s hands. 

“Just let me do it,” Crowley persisted. “Aren’t they uncomfortable like that? All ruffled up?” He couldn’t understand why Aziraphale was being so stubborn. 

“Well I’ll do it later when I get home,” 

“You’ll forget!”

Apparently seeing that Crowley was not going to drop the subject the angel sighed and finally gave in. 

Per Crowley’s instructions, he laid down on his front, so that the demon could have full access to his wings and his back wouldn’t hurt from hunching forward. “This’ll be easier if you take off your pajama shirt,” Crowley told him and with a snap of the angel’s fingers the powder blue fleece fabric was gone. The demon could see the angel was blushing, even with him lying face down because the tips of his ears were tinged a rosy pink. He didn’t understand what could possibly be embarrassing him that much though. At this point in their relationship they had seen each other’s human bodies naked countless times; and while preening was a fairly intimate act, it wasn’t more intimate than what they had shared already. 

Gently, Crowley started combing his hands over the angel’s feathers letting loose ones come away in his hands, but not pulling at all. He started from the converts, the smaller feathers lining along the top of the wing, sliding his hand with the curve of its structure. He watched, curiously, as a shiver ran down Aziraphale’s spine. Not a shudder, like he had accidentally pulled, but a shiver as though a cool breeze had come over him. Then it happened again, and again. Every time his hand caressed the length of the wing, it was met with a little involuntary shiver and sometimes a shakily drawn in breath. Crowley raised an eyebrow. 

He did the converts on the other side, more shivers. The primaries and secondaries, which were further from the body, didn’t get quite the same reaction. When he moved to the scapulars, where wings met the supple skin of shoulders, however, Aziraphale hastily buried his face into the pillow.  _Was that…?_ Crowley thought to himself, wondering if he had heard what he thought he’d heard.  _A moan?_

His fingers gently ran through the feathers on the other side, this time taking the time to also run his thumb along the blade of Aziraphale’s shoulder experimentally. 

_Yes_ , that time there was definitely a moan emanating from the depths of the pillow. One of the many things he appreciated about Aziraphale as a lover was that he was rubbish at keeping his voice down. The angel was normally incredibly vocal with his moans and even with his best attempts at hiding them, Crowley now understood why he was so hesitant to let himself be groomed. 

_He’s sensitive_ _,_ the demon thought, an evil smirk starting to creep across his face as devilish ideas began dancing around his mind.

“Let me get in a better position,” He said casually, pretending he didn’t know what Aziraphale was going through.

“Wha-?” The angel turned his head out from the pillow and started to ask a question only to abruptly fall silent when Crowley straddled him, legs on either side of his lower back. Aziraphale’s face was out just long enough for Crowley to catch a glimpse of his scandalized expression before it was abruptly shoved back into the pillow. The serpent had to bite his lip to keep himself from snickering. 

He began rubbing his thumbs steadily along each of Aziraphale’s shoulder blades, almost massaging them. 

“Crowley what are you-  _Oh!_ ” Aziraphale had freed his mouth just enough to speak again, only for the last word to be lost in a strangled moan as Crowley’s fingers pressed against the soft patch of oiled skin right in the dip between his shoulders. 

“Found it,” Crowley said, smugness oozing from his voice. Just as he’d predicted, if the wings were sensitive, the preen gland would be even more so. “See, I can tell you don’t groom enough because your feathers are so dry and brittle,” He chatted idly as he massaged his fingers into the spot, coating his hands in the natural oils. Aziraphale was squirming now, legs flinching and toes curling into the mattress. The muffled noises coming from the pillow at this point were downright delicious. He began coating the feathers in it meticulously, again gently caressing the entire wing but every time Aziraphale seemed to relax enough to move his head and take a deep breath, Crowley would go back for more oil just to watch him fight back the noises desperately trying to escape him. 

It was on one of those occasions that Crowley noticed something interesting. He felt the angel’s hips roll upward and then back down underneath him. He almost couldn’t believe it; his lover had actually started to rut himself against the bed. He pictured how achingly hard the angel must be underneath him and breathed in sharply, a tent forming in the black silk pajamas he was wearing. He couldn’t resist anymore. He moved back so that he was straddling Aziraphale’s legs instead of his back. His hips pressed up against his lover’s soft, plump rear. He watched the angel’s head shoot up in surprise as he rocked his hard cock against him, it made him smirk. 

“Mm, lucky you, angel,” Crowley purred, kissing the quivering skin of Aziraphale’s back between words. “I can multi-task,” Crowley began rutting his hips rhythmically against Aziraphale while his hands still worked dutifully to coat every feather, base to tip. Aziraphale finally let out an unrestrained cry of pleasure, the pretense of him not being hopelessly turned on dropped. 

“Ah… Crowley… n-no need to tease…” Aziraphale panted out. “You can just …have me, I want you too,” He begged. Crowley almost gave in, Aziraphale’s helplessly lustful tone sparking a fire inside him, but he was having far too much fun to stop now. 

“Hmm, I still have so many feathers to go,” He said in a faux-lamenting voice as he continued to grind against him. “And if I’m inside you I might feel the urge to grab on to your soft skin and pull your hair,” Aziraphale moaned at the lewd suggestions Crowley was making, looking back at the demon with desperation in his eyes. “No, I really ought to finish this first,” Crowley grinned wickedly as he rubbed his fingers into Aziraphale’s preen gland at the same time his fabric covered cock pressed between his ass cheeks, making the angel keen loudly, clutching the sheets tightly in his fists. 

Crowley was merciless, going through each and every individual feather as he kept up a steady pace with his hips, simultaneously overstimulating him and keeping him from what he really wanted. Aziraphale was panting and sweating like he had run a marathon, now moaning at every single touch the demon laid on his skin, regardless of where, as though his whole body had turned into one raw nerve. He humped the bed with reckless abandon, fiending for any kind of sensation on his cock. Crowley moved up, leaning in to kiss the angel’s neck and whisper in his ear. “Now your wings are all tidy and you’re the one who’s a mess,” He taunted him, nipping at his ear, taking delight in the whimper he got. Then he buried his face in the angel’s neck, kissing, biting, licking it lovingly as his fingers still danced over his wings.

With that, Aziraphale’s hips suddenly jerked and spasmed under him and he cried out in pleasure. Crowley looked at him with wide eyes, almost impressed. The angel lay there, panting, limp, his hands finally releasing the sheet he had a death grip on. 

“Did you just…?” Crowley asked, his voice amused and surprised. 

Aziraphale looked mortified. As mortified as he could in such an exhausted state. He nodded with embarrassment, wriggling uncomfortably as Crowley imagined that the cum was probably starting to get all over his thighs. He licked his lips, loving the idea that his angel had just cum untouched, just from his teasing. Sometimes Aziraphale was still so tantalizingly pure that it drove him wild. 

“First messy wings, then cumming before I’m even done playing with you,” Crowley tsked and shook his head in mock-disappointment. “Whatever am I going to do with you, angel?” He asked. Aziraphale looked up at him with big, pleading eyes. He could tell his lover needed a break after so much intense stimulation. Which was a shame because he was still rock-hard and those soft, pink lips were calling his name. “I’ll think of some way for you to make it up to me later,” He chuckled, finally getting off from on top of him. 

Aziraphale sighed with relief. “Can I put these away now?” he asked plaintively. 

“Mhm, they look much better,” Crowley said giving the angel a peck on the forehead. With a whoosh the massive white wings dematerialized and Aziraphale rolled over on to his back, still panting slightly. 

Crowley snapped his fingers and the wet spot on the front of the angel’s pajamas disappeared. His very tired lover inched over to him until he could rest his head on Crowley’s thigh. The demon raked his fingers through his short platinum curls, a lesser form of grooming. 

“Well now that I know the state you keep your wings in I’m going to have to insist on weekly grooming sessions,” Crowley told him with a cheeky gleam in his eyes. 

“It’s times like these when I remember you’re evil,” Aziraphale griped, but he was smiling as he lightly smacked the demon’s chest. 

“You think I’m joking,” Crowley muttered. 

“What was that?” 

“Nothing, angel,” The demon grinned from ear to ear, his devious little brain already plotting and daydreaming away. 

**Author's Note:**

> Y’all I literally edited this on a train so if there’s lots of spelling and grammar mistakes in the porn part that’s because I wasn’t reading it too close lol


End file.
